


Tingles and Two Person Love Triangles

by dontbelasagnax



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (I'm terribly sorry for that), ASMR, Genderfluid Castiel (Supernatural), I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Misgendering, Misunderstandings, Openly Bisexual Dean Winchester, Other, Queer Castiel (Supernatural), Social Media, Two Person Love Triangle, YouTuber Castiel (Supernatural), dead naming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23275372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontbelasagnax/pseuds/dontbelasagnax
Summary: Dean's hopeless pining for two unattainable people comes to a halt when he runs into  his favorite ASMRtist, Thursday's Angel ASMR, at the supermarket. Suddenly one of his crushes isn't so unattainable after all...
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 44
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I found that there's a lack of two person love triangles and ASMR AUs, so I set out to write them both!

Dean rolled onto his side, blankets twisting with him. He was an insomniac. And he was fine with that. Between his Bachelor's degree and working at uncle Bobby's garage, there was only so much sleep he could fit into a day. 

As much as his insomnia sucked… it did have an upside. 

Dean turned on his phone, grimacing as the bright screen nearly blinded him. He clicked on YouTube and scrolled until a video caught his attention. With a smile, he clicked on Thursday's Angel ASMR's latest video. 

A man appeared on the screen, a man with black hair, blue eyes, and a sharp nose. A sight for sore eyes, Dean thought dreamily.

" _Welcome back,_ " the man said lowly. " _I've noticed that many of you enjoy when I explore different triggers while talking about my day… So that's what we're doing today. Enjoy._ "

And that was Dean's cue to burrow deeper into his warm blankets. 

He was asleep before the video ended. 

~•~◇~•~

It was Charlie's fault. Dean made the mistake of telling her about his sleeping woes and, like the internet goblin she was, she introduced him to ASMR. And, _God_ , did it help. With a little help from a YouTube video he could finally manage more than two hours of sleep.

… But it came at a small price.

A crush. 

It seemed his favorite ASMRtist was too handsome and sweet for his own good. 

Yes, it was juvenile and stupid, crushing on an unattainable person he knew virtually nothing about, but it was harmless. And pathetic. 

~•~◇~•~

"You've gotta be kidding me." Dean stared at the heating unit that did jack shit the harder he pressed the buttons. He knew rent was pretty cheap and it was a shitty part of town, but c'mon. A functioning heater was practically a necessity in Kansas' winter. 

He sent a quick text to his landlord, letting him know the heater was broken. Again. 

It was times like these that made Dean wonder what life would be like if he'd followed Sammy to California. Sure he'd made the excuses of, _This is our home_ , and, _Can't just leave Bobby by himself_ … but they both knew Kansas was only the place they'd put down the most roots and Bobby would be fine with occasional visits.

And times like these made Dean wonder what life would have been like if he'd applied for college at MIT and made it in like Charlie. 

But, no. He stayed. 

Dean slammed the door on his way out. 

~•~◇~•~

Dean wiped his greasy hands on a rag before swatting Jo with the very same rag. 

"Ugh, what gives, dweeb?"

"Let the owner of the Camry know that they need a new transmission? I'm clocking out for lunch."

"Sure."

Dean gave her a mock salute and made his way to the break room. It wasn't much—just a small room with a microwave, minifridge, and a table with, give or take, four chairs—but it was comfortable enough to spend his break there. 

He nabbed his sandwich from the fridge, sat down, and scrolled through his phone, opening Tumblr. 

Dean would deny until the day he died he even knew of Tumblr's existence… but he really loved the trash can of a site. 

He'd been on Tumblr ever since his favorite Dr. Sexy, M.D. chat room shutdown (apparently maintaining a website was expensive) and everyone jumped ship. Turned out that Tumblr was an exponentially better place to scream into the void. He could post about whatever the hell he wanted… and he didn't have to worry about the homophobes coming out of the woodworks to shit on Dr. Palmer and Dr. Steele's obvious pining. 

But, probably the biggest plus to moving to Tumblr was—a notification popped up on Dean's phone.

Speak of the devil, he thought. His heart gave a traitorous _thump_.

**hey-assbutt**

Did you see the season finale??

**impala67**

hell yeah! who do you think I am?!

He met (well, started talking to) hey-assbutt, or Cas, a few months ago when they—or he, sometimes—reblogged Dean's post with basically an essay on how queer coded Dr. Palmer and Dr. Steele were. Needless to say, they hit it off immediately. And they got along so well. 

Maybe _too_ well.

Sometime in the few months they'd been friends, Dean developed a crush on them. Kind of a massive one, too. It was only a little bit problematic because Dean didn't have the slightest clue what they looked like or where they lived. For all Dean knew, Cas could be some 50 year old, overweight, white person that lived in their mom's basement. 

Dean's heart didn't seem to care though. 

That, combined with his crush on Thursday's Angel ASMR, told Dean that his heart was an idiot.

**hey-assbutt**

What did you think?

**impala67**

well, buckle up, pal, because you're in for a whole ass dissertation…

~•~◇~•~

After a double shift and a night class, Dean was exhausted. Unfortunately, he wasn't tired enough to sleep through (pity). So he did a repeat performance of last night. And the night before. And the night before that. And the ni—you get the point. 

He plugged in his headphones and queued up a video by Thursday's Angel ASMR. It was an old favorite, _ASMR Reading The Hobbit Aloud (Whispered)_. The guy only posted on Thursdays—hence the name, Dean guessed—so when there wasn't a new video, Dean just watched an older one. 

" _In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit_ " Thursday's Angel said. " _Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole filled with-_ " 

A notification popped up on Dean's phone. 

**hey-assbutt**

Are you awake? 

Dean smiled and minimized YouTube. 

**impala67**

yeah, barely

**impala67**

watching some asmr to help me sleep

Why did I tell him that, Dean thought, they're gonna think I'm a fucking weirdo and then they're never gonna talk me again and-

**hey-assbutt**

I love ASMR. Has it been helping you?

Oh. Good.

**impala67**

most of the time, yeah

**impala67**

it doesn't hurt that the guy I'm watching is smoooking hot

**impala67**

seriously, I'd marry him if I could

**impala67**

gives me tingles? check. super hot? check. into the hobbit? check. funny? check. 

**impala67**

as my bff the lesbian would say, he's a dreamboat

**hey-assbutt**

I don't think you realize how much material you've given me. I have enough information to tease you for the next few years XD

**impala67**

ha ha. fuck you.

**hey-assbutt**

Sorry, I think you'd much rather this handsome ASMRtist did

**hey-assbutt**

Or would that be cheating on your precious Dr. Palmer?

**impala67**

i'm leaving

**hey-assbutt**

Have fun with your one true love ;)

~•~◇~•~

Dean was walking to his morning class when the next text came.

**hey-assbutt**

Did you fall asleep watching the man of your dreams?

**hey-assbutt**

*asmr 

**hey-assbutt**

Sorry, autocorrect ;)

**impala67**

fuck you

**impala67**

I never shoulda told u about that

**hey-assbutt**

You have a cruUuush

**impala67**

shut up

**hey-assbutt**

I will if you ever tell me who they are

**impala67**

ur just gonna be an asshole about it

**hey-assbutt**

Me? An asshole? Unavoidable.

**hey-assbutt**

In all seriousness, I promise to provide well needed moral support in this trying time

**hey-assbutt**

With a side of teasing

**impala67**

...............k

[Image Attached]

**impala67**

u still there man?

**hey-assbutt**

Yes, terribly sorry.

**hey-assbutt**

You have a crush on Thursday's Angel ASMR?

**impala67**

shhhh, don't say it so loud 

**impala67**

but yeah

**impala67**

you seen his videos?

**hey-assbutt**

...I'm familiar with his work

**impala67**

okay, that's not ominous at all

**impala67**

gimme some feedback, dude. from one not straight person to another, he's hot isn't he 

**hey-assbutt**

He's not *not* attractive 

**impala67**

wtffff

**impala67**

he's literally the fucking hottest guy I've seen outside of porn

**impala67**

you need glasses

**hey-assbutt**

Funnily enough, I do need to renew my prescription 

**impala67**

smh

~•~◇~•~

It was Dean's errand day. Also known as laundry day, grocery shopping day, and the only day of the week Dean had off work. Most people just called the damn day Sunday. 

It was already shaping up to be a pretty nice Sunday since he managed to nab the very last space heater at Walmart. Score.

He walked down the aisles of the local supermarket, occasionally taking his phone out of his back pocket to text Charlie. She was getting ready for a first date and somehow thought he'd be helpful. Truthfully, he didn't think she needed him to help pick an outfit—based solely on the amount of times she'd called him a lumberjack. She probably just wanted moral support. Regardless, he told her the black dress looked great with her lipstick. 

When he looked up from his phone, he nearly dropped it. Right across from Dean, fucking squeezing avocados, was Thurday's Angel ASMR _in the flesh_. 

**Dean [12:36 PM]** CHALREI

 **Dean [12:36 PM]** I CABT DUCKING BRETH

**Queen of Moons [12:36 PM]** am i rlly that hot???

**Dean [12:36 PM]** NO U IDOT

 **Dean [12:37 PM]** THURDAUS ANGEL AMSR IS RIGHT FUCKINH IN FORNT OF ME

**Queen of Moons [12:37 PM]** ALDJSKDJSJ WAIT WHAT REALLY

**Dean [12:37 PM]** YES

**Queen of Moons [12:37 PM]** GO TALK TO HIM!!!!!!!

And Dean had the sudden realization that, _yeah_ , he _could_ talk to him.

So he tucked his phone in his pocket and hoped for the best—really, that was all you could do when trying to talk to a really hot person.

"Hey." Oh God, you fucking idot. 'Hey'? _Really_? You lame-ass fucking—

"Hello." 

Oh, _fuck._ His voice was _deep._ "Hi." Shut up shut up shut up shut up, he thought. Dean cleared his throat and pointed at the avocados. "Just wanted to tell you that all the avocados are either wayyy too green or so old that they're mush. Trust me, I spent a while digging." He laughed compulsively and hoped he didn't come off as psychotic. 

It seemed some sort of God was listening because the guy smiled. And it wasn't one of those smiles from his videos. His crows feet etched fine lines next to his eyes and it felt so _genuine_. "Thank you." 

"Yeah, no problem." Dean winked. Why did you wink? Just stop, he thought. "Well I'm just gonna," he pointed at absolutely nothing behind himself, "go."

When he was almost out of the produce section he heard, "Have a good one!" 

Dean walked straight into a display of bananas. "You too," he managed weakly. 

The man chuckled.

Dean was _done for._

~•~◇~•~

Unfortunately for Dean, he and Charlie Facetimed every Sunday night. Why would that be unfortunate? Well, Charlie, the damn bloodhound, wasn't likely to drop the whole seeing Thursday's Angel at the grocery store thing. In short, Dean was doomed. 

_"So?"_ Charlie asked as soon as he accepted the call.

"What?" Playing dumb wouldn't buy him much more than a few seconds, but—hey—can't blame a guy for trying.

She leveled him with one of those terrifying mom glares, which was kinda weird considering she wasn't even a mom. _"Don't 'what' me. Did you get hot ASMR dude's number?!"_

"... No."

_"No?!"_

"I didn't even get his name, Red!" 

She sighed. _"What am I gonna do with you?"_

"Hopefully drown me in the Atlantic."

_"Shut up. You're going to see him again and you're going to get his number. The gay gods are watching over you."_

"The gay gods are pissing themselves laughing watching me run away from hot men like a blushing schoolgirl."

_"I never denied that."_

"I hate you."

Dean should have expected it when she replied with, _"No you don't."_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PSA: Cas uses they/them pronouns and _sometimes_ he/him pronouns, as stated in the previous chapter, if you caught that. Most instances where they are referred to as he/him/his are misgendering. And unfortunately, there is dead naming (I say that as if I didn't write it lmao)

Castiel scrolled through their messages again, grimacing as they caught sight of the screenshot. The screenshot of their  _ own _ YouTube channel. They groaned into their pillow.

It complicated things so much. Too much. Impala67 said Thursday's Angel ASMR was hot, funny, and that he'd marry him. Emphasis on  _ Thursday's Angel ASMR _ .

Impala67 had a crush on Thursday's Angel ASMR, not hey-assbutt. 

Castiel themself was half in love with impala67, though they'd never seen his face, nor caught his real name. The man was just so charming and funny in a somehow brash way. 

How would they ever broach the topic? "Hey, remember that ASMRtist you have a huge crush on? Well, surprise! I'm them," would hardly go over well. The time to reveal themself passed. If they were to tell impala67 who they were, it would've been when he shared the screenshot. 

Now Cas was royally fucked. Their crush liked them back, but not in the way they wanted. 

… And then there's the issue of the attractive man they met at the grocery store that they're fairly certain was flirting (badly) with them.

They groaned once more and tugged the covers over their head.

~•~◇~•~

"No, no, no, no,  _ no! _ " Cas said as their car made the most horrifying noise for the fiftieth time in a row. "Please don't do this to me now," they pleaded. They tried to shift out of park, hoping this time it would just  _ move _ , but instead they were met with the sound of Hell opening up. "Fuck." This was what they got for waiting to get their car serviced.

With a resigned sigh, Cas pulled out their phone and googled the nearest towing service.

~•~◇~•~

As it turned out, the nearest towing service was provided by the only auto repair shop in town. They rode in the truck with the operator, a skinny and eccentric man going by the name of Garth. 

"Our mechanic, Dean 'll fix her up nice and easy," the man rambled on. "He's a pro when it comes to vintage cars, so ya don't have to worry."

Cas hummed. They weren't worried in the first place, but it was good to know the shop had an expert.

"I'll let you in on a lil secret. Dean may look like a grizzly bear, but he's just a big ol' teddy bear." 

They humored Garth with a small huff of laughter. 

~•~◇~•~

"This is where the ride ends, amigo. If you go in that door right there, a nice little lady named Jo should handle your paperwork. Adios, partner!" Garth said as he saluted them. 

Castiel hopped out of the truck and made the small walk to the entrance of Singer's Auto. A bell rang as he opened the door, and a blonde woman looked up from behind a desk. 

"Are you Jo?"

"Yup, what brings you here, stranger?" 

"... I was told to pay for the towing service here."

"Ah, so Garth brought you in. C'mere so I can get your info." They took a few steps until they were right up against the desk. "Will you be paying cash or credit?"

"Credit." 

"Alrighty." 

They pulled out their credit card and ID. Jo swiped up the cards. "Oh, we don't need the ID," she glanced at the card, "Jimmy. Thanks anyways." 

Cas barely held back a flinch. They were filing for a name change as soon as they'd lived in Kansas for sixty days, but being called 'Jimmy' wasn't exactly their favorite pastime. "No problem." 

If you asked Castiel why they didn't correct Jo, they would've replied that they doubted they'd see her again and they didn't have to come out to every person they met. What a big mistake that was. 

"All done." She slid their cards across the counter to them. "One last question, what's your phone number?"

They dutifully recited their number. "Thanks. You can wait here till your car is ready, or we can call you."

Considering they were new to town and didn't have anyone to pick them up, the answer was straight forward. "No need to call, I'll just," they took one look at the plastic chairs with barely any cushion and instantly regretted every decision they'd ever made, "wait here."

~•~◇~•~

Cas sighed. It felt like they'd been sitting in the damned chair for hours, though it couldn't have been more than forty minutes in reality. They abandoned trying to text impala67 after yet another text went unread. He was probably busy, but Cas couldn't help feeling inconvenienced. They switched gears and checked the comment section of their latest YouTube video. Their subscribers never failed to make them laugh. 

**_inigo montoya_ **

_ the fact that he doesn't tell us about his day, he tells us what his cats did-  _

**_Grayson Miller_ **

_ Honestly, I clicked because of the hot guy in the thumbnail and I was NOT disappointed 😳🥵 _

Castiel huffed. It was flattering, but they did not quite see what that person did, or the two hundred people that liked the comment.

**_ari's biggest stan_ **

_ I fell asleep before he finished talking about his cats so I rewatched the video aND I FELL ASLEEP AGAIN. Someone tell me what his cats got up to, because at this point, I'm never gonna find out on my own 😂😭 _

They smiled. It was always gratifying to know that their videos helped people sleep.

**_impala67_ **

_ Husband material.  _

Cas blushed. Even when they couldn't get ahold of him, impala67 had a way of worming his way into Cas' life. They groaned and closed YouTube. A problem for another day, they thought. For now, they could focus on the low murmur of voices from the terrible HGTV playing. Or the  _ 'pop' _ from Jo's bubblegum every few minutes. Or the—

"Jo, is the owner of the pimpmobile here?" 

Cas jumped in their seat. That voice, a nice baritone, sounded oddly familiar...

Jo clicked her mouse a few times. "The Lincoln Continental?" Oh. Their car. They turned around in their seat to see-  _ shit _ . The man from the grocery store. The man with a dusting of freckles (in winter!) and impeccable jawline… and the worst flirting technique known to mankind. 

"Obviously," he replied. 

"Whatever. The owner, Jimmy, is right over there." 

The man, probably Dean, now that they thought about it, looked directly at Cas and they'd never wanted the Earth to open up and swallow them more.  _ Shit _ , they thought,  _ this day could not have gotten worse.  _


	3. Chapter 3

Dean was pretty sure the universe was fucking with him.

The last thing he expected to see when he turned around was his favorite ASMRtist. Honestly, while checking up on the Continental, he'd already envisioned the owner to be some guy like Ash. Someone who legitimately thought that car was _cool_ . Never in a million years would he have thought that the sex god from YouTube owned a damn _pimpmobile._

He stared at Thursd- _Jimmy_ , who only stared back, looking much like a deer in headlights. This was too much. 

"Ahem," Jo said, with a non-subtle jab to his ribs.

Dean grimaced and pointedly did not look at Jo. Damn her for being able to read him so well. "Eh-um. Hi." Jo made a choking sound beside him, which he was fairly certain was a failed attempt to hide a laugh. Fuck her. He swallowed and tried again. "I'm Dean. The mechanic working on your car…"

Jimmy—God, why did that name feel so wrong—seemed to shake himself out of blankly staring at Dean. "Yes. I remember you from the other day. At the grocery store."

"Right." Dean flushed. Of _course_ he had to bring that up. "Well, uh, looks like your car is gonna need a new transmission." Jimmy's face fell.

"There's a discount for newcomers that I can hook you up with. Should cover most of the expenses," Jo said. 

"Thank you." Jimmy's genuine smile was back and Dean felt his insides turn into a gooey mess. Fuck. He beelined out of the room, trusting Jo to handle the rest of the transaction and hoping that his cowardice wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass. 

~•~◇~•~

On his bed, surrounded by boxes of Chinese takeout and Doctor Sexy M.D playing on his laptop, Dean tried his hardest to think of anything besides Jimmy and found he couldn't. 

He had hoped if he ever saw Thursday's Angel again, he'd be on his A game; ready to shoot his shot and exchange numbers. But, no, Thur- Jimmy (What kind of name was _Jimmy_ ?), waltzed into Bobby's shop with his ugly ass car and blindsided Dean, again. It felt like those gay Gods Charlie loved were plotting to embarrass- _bzzzzz_ , _bzzzz_. 

He picked up his vibrating phone to check who was- _shit_. Dean's heart lurched when he saw just who texted him. 

**hey-assbutt**

Look at this bee that I befriended on my long walk home :)

How could someone he'd never seen be so _cute_? 

**impala67**

it's a fluffy little guy

**impala67**

didja name him?

**hey-assbutt**

Actually, she's a worker bee, which means she's female.

**hey-assbutt**

And yes, I named her Eunice.

With that, Dean forgot all about his worries. He settled deeper in his blankets and surrendered to the sweet, molten lava pooling in his chest. Episodes of Doctor Sexy M.D. passed by in the background and his food grew cold, but Dean didn't care. There was nothing quite like Cas talking about something they loved. He got lost in the story of Eunice and a broken transmission until he nodded off.

~•~◇~•~

_Bright. That's all he saw. Clouds above swirled into big, soft shapes. White. Tranquil. He felt warm. Something tickled his legs and he saw green. Grass. He smiled and closed his eyes, let the warmth consume him. But there was… something. Something else. A noise, in the distance. Soft but persistent. He closed his eyes tighter. If he ignored the noise it would go away. Bzzz. He rolled over, face pinching. It didn't go away. Bzzzzz. It grew closer. Bzzzzzzzzz. It was loud, like a swarm of bees. Bees! He opened his eyes and there they were. Hundreds, thousands of them flying so close together they were like a dark storm cloud. Almost on command, a crack of thunder broke through the sky. But it wasn't the sky. The ground around him crumbled, falling inwards, down. He scrambled for something to hold on to as the ground gave way, but there was nothing. All he saw was black. All he heard was the buzzing of the bees. And he fell._

~•~◇~•~

_BZZZZ, BZZZZ, BZZZZZZZZZZ._

Dean wiped his eyes and patted his tangled covers for his loud, annoying phone. 

Oh. Oh _no._

He leapt out of bed, stumbling as he pulled on the nearest, most likely dirty, pair of jeans. His stats class had an early exam that he could not miss. And he was gonna miss it because he slept in. _Fuck_. 

~•~◇~•~

"You look like Hell warmed over," was the first thing Jo said to Dean when he came into work. 

"Thanks. Really appreciate it, Jo," Dean said, sarcasm leaking through his every pore.

"Hey, it's the truth." 

"You try waking up late because of a weird ass fever dream and you have to rush to your stats class to take an exam which was supposed to start at seven in the morning except you got there at seven forty-five, which means you only have an hour and forty-five minutes to finish the exam when everyone else had two hours."

"Sounds like you need a drink."

"Jo-"

"Scratch that, a night out! You, me, Ash. Maybe Charlie will drop by on that face video thingy!"

"I don't know. I gotta work and there's this essay due Wedn-"

"C'monnnn, it's been ages since we all hung out without Bobby or mom hounding our asses. Plus, you need a break."

"Fine. But you're doin' all the scut work at Bobby's if my essay is late."

"Aye aye, captain."

~•~◇~•~

Upon walking into the Roadhouse, Dean was immediately in danger. 

"Dean Winchester, where the hell have you been?" Ellen glared at him, a dish towel slung over her shoulder. 

He prayed this wouldn't be how he died. "Eh, sorry Ellen; I don't have much time outside of work and school."

"Excuses, excuses. Just look at Ash," Dean did. The man with a mullet was passed out at the bar with his laptop still open to _canvas.net_. Ellen continued, "that boy visits every week and still manages to get his work done."

Dean wasn't exactly sure if Ash was the… _best_ example, but he wasn't one to argue with Ellen. "'kay, from now on I promise to visit you more."

"Good. Now take a seat while I get your regular." She pushed him into a stool at the bar. He wouldn't dare argue with her. 

"Well if it isn't the man of the hour!" Jo said as she plopped onto the stool next to his. A Johnny Cash song started up, the quality leaving much to be desired as it came from the speakers of the jukebox.

"Not you too," he groused, "I just saw you like four hours ago."

"That's _work_. When was the last time you left the house for fun?" She bumped his shoulder with hers'.

"I-" he couldn't actually remember the last time.

"Exactly. I get to gloat since I'm the one who finally coaxed the hermit out of his cave." Ellen set their drinks down in front of them. A draft beer for Dean and brandy for Jo. "Thanks, mom."

"Course," Ellen said distractedly. She walked away, towards a drunken patron asking for a refill. 

"So, what's on the agenda for tonight? I know I said we'd go out on the town, but Ash is fuckin' out for the count and he'd bitch about it for ages if we left him here."

"How about we get a few rounds and annoy the hell out of everyone by playing the same song on the jukebox?"

"Basic." She knocked back her drink and set it down with a satisfying _clunk_. "I'm down."

~•~◇~•~

"Come on, Eileen, to loo ra ay," Jo crooned in Dean's ear as he sipped his beer. She giggled as he swatted her away.

"Your singing voice is fuckin' terrible, Jo. Go serenade the drunkards."

"Nooooo, I need my dancing buddy back." 

"Let me have one more sip-" Jo dragged him by the arm. His drink sloshed as he stumbled after her. The jukebox sat, menacingly, in front of them, playing Come on Eileen for the umpteenth time that night. Jo snatched his drink and downed it before twirling with his hand in hers. "I hate you."

"It's part of my charm," she drawled. Dean barked out a laugh. 

The jingling of the bells above the main door cut through the song playing on the jukebox. 

Dean glanced over to the entrance to see their latest victim and-

_Fuck_.

Apparently he'd said that out loud because Jo stopped bouncing and looked over her shoulder. "What-?" she cut herself off. 

Seating himself in one of the red booths—the low, golden lighting of the bar washed over his features—was the man he'd now come to know as Jimmy.

Jo turned back to Dean, her face aglow with delight. She punched him on the chest. "It's that pimpmobile dude… the guy you obviously have a hard-on for." 

Dean wanted to slap that smug look off her face. Unfortunately, his mama taught him something called "values" so all he could do was sigh and resign himself to death.

Jo shoved his empty glass into his hands. Her smile was terrifying. "Get yourself a refill." 

"I _will_ kill you."

"Uh huh," she slapped his ass and winked, "go get him tiger." 

The universe was definitely fucking with Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait for this chapter!! With the ending of Supernatural being right around the corner, thinking about the show in general has been pretty anxiety inducing.
> 
> I'm terribly sorry if the end of this chapter doesn't quite match up (tone and/or writing style) with the rest of the story. It's difficult going from writing dark, homoerotic, cannibalistic fanfiction to something more lighthearted and for a completely different fandom lmao

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you feel inclined, I'd greatly appreciate a comment and kudo. I swear I get such a dopamine rush whenever I get an email saying "someone left a comment on". ❤❤❤❤
> 
> If you want more of this story, feel free to subscribe! I'll be posting chapters as soon as they're finished :)
> 
> Scream at me on [tumblr](https://dontbelasagnax.tumblr.com)!


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